


Autopsy

by MissHoshigaki



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Autopsies, Disturbing Themes, F/M, Gen, Morbid, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-21
Updated: 2015-03-21
Packaged: 2018-03-18 19:50:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3581751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissHoshigaki/pseuds/MissHoshigaki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She covered the body with the white sheet and snapped her gloves off, walking to the sink to wash her hands. It was time to meet the mortician. (KakuSaku in some form, probably not romance.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Vol. I

She covered the body with the white sheet and snapped her gloves off, walking to the sink to wash her hands. Everything had been weighed and measured and documented, meticulously written down in a notebook to be handed over to the police so they could continue with their investigation. This was the first murder she had ever worked by herself, and she thought she had done a pretty good job.

She picked up the phone to let the office know she was done.

"The autopsy's finished," Sakura said, looking over at the corpse lying peacefully on the steel slab under the sheet. "You can send the guys to pick it up now."

"They _just_ left," Ino whined on the other end of the line. "Should I call them back?"

"Yeah, the family wanted to bury him as soon as possible, so the faster the mortician can pick him up the better." She could hear her friend grumble under her breath.

"I really hoped I wouldn't have to see them again today..." Ino muttered, "You know how they are."

"Actually I've never met them. I've never been here when they pick up the bodies." Ino let out a laugh; Sakura felt uneasy in the morgue for the first time. Somehow she had managed to be busy every time a body was picked up. She was either with a live patient, doing paperwork, or otherwise occupied and she was starting to wonder if Tsunade had been purposely sending her away.

"You're in for a treat. I'll call them back right now." Ino hung up. Sakura could only guess what she meant by that.

Sakura busied herself with paperwork while she waited, uncharacteristically anxious about meeting the mortician and his assistant that she had only heard stories about. This was the first day she had temporarily taken up the position of head coroner. Her mentor, Tsunade, had taken a forced leave of absence ordered by her superiors. Tsunade was dedicated to her work and, given the chance, would work herself into the ground if no one intervened. They arrived twenty minutes later.

"Knock, knock!" A white haired man shouted as he roughly shoved the swinging door open, "We're here for the stiff." His grinning face fell when he saw her. "Oi, you're not her. Where's the one with the big ti-"

A second man came through the door behind him, smacking him over the head with a broad palm without missing a step, stopping him mid-offensive sentence and sending him staggering forward. He was broad shouldered and tall, with glossy dark brown hair pulled into a loose pony tail that spilled down his back between his shoulder blades. There was a certain presence he carried with him and it made Sakura uneasy. She would have pinned it on the fact that he spent his days slicing into the dead for a living, but that would be hypocritical considering the task she had just finished. He stalked over to the autopsy table, hardly glancing her way, and pulled on a pair of heavy duty gloves.

"This the one?" He asked, voice gruff and rumbling, lifting the sheet to take a look at the identification tag. "Where's the coroner? I need her to sign this." He gestured with a clipboard, fixing Sakura with his striking green eyes over one shoulder.

"Tsunade-taicho is on leave; I'm the head coroner for the next three months." She strode to him and took the clipboard, doing her best to sound in control. She plucked the pen from the breast pocket of her lab coat and scanned the document. "Haruno Sakura, by the way."

"You're young," he stated evenly, observing her critically. She couldn't tell if it was disbelief or approval in his voice, but whatever it was, it grated on her nerves. He didn't bother to introduce himself, still appraising her with a calculating look and Sakura could feel the tiny muscles around her eye twitch in irritation. She knew she looked young, she got that all the time. She was used to this sort of treatment in the medical field, being dismissed because of her age or because of her looks, but that didn't mean she tolerated it.

"I'm _very_ good at my job." She met his eyes with hers, a sharp smile on her lips, challenging him to say something. He was silent, and she was starting to wonder if her job was going to be very unpleasant every time they had to come by, but finally he gave a curt nod. She handed the clipboard back to him.

"What are you waiting for? Get the kart," he barked at the other man who was just watching their exchange. He rolled his eyes, but did as he was told, and was back with the stretcher they used to wheel the corpses to their transfer van. Sakura watched as they unzipped the black bag and maneuvered the body inside and on to the kart. The obnoxious man started pushing the stretcher out the door while the dark haired man turned back to her, holding out a large, ungloved hand.

"Kakuzu." He had a firm, surprisingly warm grip. "I look forward to working with you, Dr. Haruno."


	2. Vol. II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ** I would like to just put it out there that is a pretty morbid chapter about a crooked mortician. If the stories about death, disease, embalming, cremation, etc, make you uncomfortable I wouldn't recommend you read it. There is also mention of someone dying from PKD (just a heads up if you/someone you know has it because it might be upsetting). I don't even know what this is and there might be more to come?

Kakuzu sifted through the documents in front of him, calculating the worth of the heart and how much he could coerce the desperate family to pay for it. Generally, he sold them for $119,000 but he was fairly sure he could push it to $125,000 or maybe even higher. The level of desperation on the man’s face reeked of a sentimentality he hardly understood but fully intended to take advantage of. It always amazed him the lengths an individual would go to save a spouse or relative. It went double for a child. The father sat across from him on the other side of his large desk, squirming nervously in a purposely uncomfortable chair.

His office was eerily quiet for all except the occasional creak from the old chair and the flutter of paper. He needed find that sweet spot to maximize profit while still proposing a realistic figure that this man could scrape together before his daughter died. It would be no good to him if the heart recipient perished before he received his cash, but if she died after it made no difference to him. Maybe he'd even get a funeral service out of this if he played his cards right. He was in it for the money, not a warm fuzzy feeling for helping someone in need. The more he could extract from this heart the better.

Kakuzu finally reached a decision and piled the documents neatly on the desk. He clasped his hands together as he leaned forward with his elbows resting on the tabletop, observing the other man in his cheap suit and dark bags under his eyes. Compassion and human kindness were a mystery to him, one he doubted he'd ever understand on a personal level, and certainly a mystery that he didn't care to solve. Obviously this man had made countless sacrifices to his own wellbeing to attempt to keep his daughter alive. To Kakuzu, that translated to a large sum in his bank account.

"$130,000," Kakuzu stated, breaking the silence with his rumbling voice. He waited and watched with cold eyes. A few common emotions past over the mans face; despair, disbelieve, resignation.

"I-I," he sputtered meekly. Either he didn't have that kind of money or he was going to try to weasel the price down. Kakuzu didn't care one way or the other; there were plenty of children who needed hearts if this deal didn't go through. In the end he could find another buyer but he didn't like it when his time was wasted. "I can't do that. Can't you lower-"

"Do you realize how much I'm risking even talking about this?" He sat up to his full height, unclasping his hands and looking down his nose at this pathetic excuse for a human. "Either you give me $130,000, in cash, or you find another donor. Hearts are a scarce commodity, as I'm sure you know. You can't expect me to just give them away. Do we have a deal or not?"

The quiver of his unshaven lip, the upturn of his brows, and the soft choking noise as he covered his mouth told Kakuzu the man was about to cry. He had to look away, not because he felt guilty but because he still wanted to salvage this deal and most people found it unsavory when you scowled at their grief. He let the man weep until he settled down enough for Kakuzu to talk with out revulsion dripping from his tone.

"Do we have a deal?"

"Y-yes," the father sobbed.

"Excellent," Kakuzu responded briskly, back to business. "I will need payment in full by tomorrow at 3:00 pm. Once I have the money, the hospital will receive an unmarked cooler containing the heart. Do you understand?" The man nodded feebly, dragging one sleeve under his dripping nose. "You are not to come back here again. I have a no refund policy; if anything goes wrong in the transplant or if rejection occurs, it's not my problem." He narrowed his eyes and leaned in closer, "I'm sure I don't have to explain why it would be a mistake to tell anyone about this or attempt any retribution if it fails."

"I understand, I understand..." he said between sniffles, still nodding. Reluctantly, Kakuzu stuck out his hand to shake on it, to seal the deal, and quickly pumped some hand sanitizer in to his palm once he was free from the man's clammy hand.

Satisfied that he had secured an accord, he stood and walked around the desk, indicating to the man that their meeting had come to an end. He ushered him out of the funeral home before he could get his fluids on any other surfaces. It was times like these when Kakuzu considered keeping tissues in his office, but he knew that would convey an impression of sympathy that he was not comfortable with.

He waited impatiently as the trembling, weepy man shrugged on his coat and shuffled out the door toward his old beat up car. He shut the door as soon as his heel left the threshold, but continued to watch though the peephole to be sure he kept to the path and left the premises promptly.

Now that the man was out of his office, he locked the main door again and went down to the mortuary’s basement to get to his real work. He had a few bodies he had yet to work on that needed tending. Two burials and one cremation. After tying his apron, he rolled the first one out of the fridge and onto the steel table where he started by cleaning and disinfecting the body, breaking up the rigor mortis, and setting the facial features. There wasn't much to salvage from this body because of its condition; riddled with gunshot wounds and already autopsied by the coroner, most of the organs were too damaged to be sold. Besides, corpses connected to a police investigation always carried the risk of exhumation where missing tissue would be questioned and scrutinized. He would still make a small profit from the funeral service in any case.

Normally, burials were lucrative. He could get away with taking almost all of the organs; corneas, heart, liver, kidneys, sometimes even ligaments. Depending on the body and the type of clothes they would be buried in, he could also take patches of skin which went for $10 per square inch. It was a modest sum, but a profit none the less. It all depended on the cause of death and what he was able to reclaim. Sometimes he even got lucky and knew ahead of time when a family was going to pull the plug on their comatose loved one. Then he was able to execute a harvest for some of the more time sensitive procedures, like the one he had just arranged. Otherwise the organs were sold to unknown buyers for undisclosed reasons, which was the way he liked it.

Cremations, on the other hand, were his favorite. He could get away with the entire corpse if he felt like it. As long as he gave the family approximately 4 to 6 pounds of ash they didn't notice the difference. A lot of money could be pulled from one body and there was always a handful of people who were willing to buy what he was selling.

Once the mouth was sewn shut and the eyes were glued, he began inserting the tube to drain any remaining blood and pump in the preservative fluid to start the embalming process. Finally, once the fluid had saturated the body, he removed the tubes and opened the Y suture left by the coroner to process the organs with a solution of formaldehyde and then sewed it shut again.

When Kakuzu really thought about it, he did enjoy this aspect of his job. It was calming and methodical, putting things in order and cleaning them up. Dealing with the dead was so much simpler than dealing with the living and, if he were being completely honest, he preferred the company of a corpse over almost all of the people he had the misfortune to meet. There were a handful that didn't make him want to slit their throats but they were few and far between.

Before he knew it, he had finished preparing the second body as well and he could finally inspect the third body to assess what kind of profit he would make. The individual was young, maybe mid to late thirties, with smooth, unmarked skin and hair long enough to sell for wig making. Apparently the next of kin decided against an autopsy so the large Y incision was absent from the torso. Just judging from their outwards appearance he was sure he would make at least $600,000 if everything else was in good enough condition.

He grabbed the chart and flipped to the page that indicated cause of death: a brain aneurysm. The attending physician concluded it was due to a weakened the blood vessel wall in the circle of Willis that just couldn't hold up anymore. He frowned slightly. If he was right, and he was pretty sure he was, that meant the kidneys would be unsellable. He flipped back a few pages and sure enough, they had recently been diagnosed with polycystic kidney disease. He grumbled to himself; he'd probably make a bigger profit selling the body as a whole instead of by part now, but nowhere near the amount he had originally thought.

Kakuzu marked down a few figures and calculations and then rolled the imperfect corpse back into its spot in the fridge. Kakuzu collected every tool he had used and put the ones he could into the autoclave and the ones he couldn't to the skin where he meticulously hand washed them. He scrubbed every surface with a harsh sanitizer, spent a few minute thoroughly washing his hands up to the elbow, and finally deposited his sullied apron into the laundry.

When he returned to his office he picked up the phone and dialed a familiar number; it was time to arrange a heart transplant. He waited as it rang twice; the person on the other end picked up, voice bored and flat.

"Hello, you've reached Sunrise Dry Cleaners. Can I help you?"

"Five-eight-one dash three," Kakuzu relayed, never in the mood to play along with the charade.

"One moment," the voice answered. He heard the phone being set down on a hard surface and the shuffle of movement through the receiver. After a few minutes of waiting the other phone was picked up again.

"What?" Hidan spat, annoyed. "You do realize I'm seriously done for the day, right? I'm not going back to the hospital _again_ ; you can find some other fucking idiot to-"

"The heart transplant is on for tomorrow," Kakuzu said, ignoring the other man's chattering. "Have the cooler delivered to the hospital at 3 pm. Don't be late." He hung up the phone without waiting for a reply. Hidan, although obnoxious, was consistently good at keeping his deliveries on time and seemed to have no qualms about dealing in the black market organ trade or grave robbing. That was probably the only reason, other than the fact they were assigned to work together, that he still tolerated him. He went through a mental checklist, making sure that everything was in order for the next day. The only thing that could throw a wrench in his plan was if the father failed to deliver the money, but with his daughters life on the line he was sure he wouldn't flake. With everything else in order, he grudgingly pulled out a pile of paperwork he had yet to complete.

It was almost 7:30 by the time Kakuzu had finally completed his legitimate paperwork. Despite being involved in a lot of unsavory and illegal dealings, he was very serious about his mortuary; it was more than just maintaining appearances to him. This was a family hand-me-down, after all, and it was his name and reputation that would be dragged through the mud if anything was amiss. Avoiding suspicion in the first place was one of the reasons he was so successful and he didn't want all of his effort wasted if someone went digging too deep into his affairs.

Just as he was filing away the finished documents in their proper place, his surveillance system pinged, alerting him to the front door camera. It was late for visitors at his mortuary. He pulled up the video feed for camera 1 on his computer. To his surprise, it was the young coroner he had met that afternoon walking up the front steps. Dr. Haruno Sakura.

He watched as she paused, brought a hand up to knock, but hesitated and pulled back. She took what looked like a deep breath, smoothed down the front of her red coat, and knocked firmly on the large wooden door. He considered ignoring her; it was after hours and he was under no obligation to answer the door, but still he was intrigued by the subtle agitation he glimpsed from his monitor. He walked down the hall toward the front door.

"Dr. Haruno," Kakuzu greeted mildly, catching her mid knock when he opened the door. She blinked owlishly at him. "What brings you here?"

"I'm sorry to bother you so late," Sakura prefaced, abashed that she was there at all. "It came to my attention that there was one thing I forgot to document about the body you pick up today. Do you happen to still have it on hand?" Kakuzu considered her request silently, letting her stand there to sweat. "It'll only take around five minutes..." she trailed off. He didn't generally like letting any living person into his work area; he had learned his lesson from Hidan, a bull in a china shop if there ever was one. On the other hand, he didn't want to be accused of obstruction of an investigation, if it came to that. This was a very simple request and it might be seen as suspicious and non-compliant to refuse. And who was he to stand in the way of justice? He stepped out of the way and gestured for Sakura to come inside.

"Right this way, Dr. Haruno," he rumbled after he closed and locked the door. He could see nervousness in her face when she heard the lock click. He supposed that was understandable; a young woman locked inside a mortuary with a man she hardly knew being led down into the basement. He didn't address her fears but he did decide to go down the stairs first at least, flipping on the bright halogen lights as he went. Kakuzu briskly made his way to the fridge where the gunshot victim resided and rolled him out. Sakura muttered thanks as she pulled on a pair of gloves and got to work. He busied himself with tidying up a supply cabinet on the opposite end of the room, reluctant to leave her alone lest she decide to poke around or move his things.

If Kakuzu had been in his office, like he would have been if Sakura hadn't been here, he would have had advance warning that Pein and Konan were about to arrive. Unfortunately, he wasn't and now Sakura was going to see some things that she really shouldn't. The first thing that alerted Kakuzu to the fact that he and the doctor weren't alone anymore was the scuffling of feet on the floor above them. Only a few people had the key to his front door so he instantly knew there was a very short list of individuals that could be in his house, but that information was altogether useless in this situation. Before either of them could react, the basement door crashed open and two people staggered down the stairs, one so injured that he wouldn't have been able to hold himself up if it weren't for the blue haired woman helping him.

"We have a situation," Konan called once she was almost at the foot of the stairs, barely keeping hold of Pein who could only groan with every step. He was clutching a red-stained towel to the left side of his waist. She eased him in to the first chair she came across and made sure the towel was still in place before looking around, eyes settling on Sakura. It took Dr. Haruno a split second before she jumped into action, years of training kicking in automatically when presented with a patient.

"I'm a doctor, I can help," she said calmly, ripping off her soiled gloves and reached in her pocket for a clean pair as she rushed over to the injured Pein. "Kakuzu, please call 911."

Konan shot him a questioning look. _Can we trust her?_ Under the circumstances it looked like they had no choice. He gave a curt nod, and turned to Sakura. "We can't do that. Can you treat him here?"

"What do you mean _you can't do that_?" Sakura asked, confused, and turned on him, "This man needs a hospital. He probably needs a blood transfusion."

Kakuzu took a step forwards, towering above her. " _Can you treat him here?_ " he hissed. There was no explanation he could give without giving too much information. "I have supplies."

She glared right back at him, but he could see her resolve weaken, the need to help overriding her need to obey procedure. The doctor scowled. "Damnit," she muttered, looking around the room. "Is that table sterilized?" She jerked her head toward one of the steel autopsy gurneys.

"Of course."

"Good. Help me get him on there." He and Konan set to the task of easing Pein on to the cold table. "I'll need those supplies." She lifted up the bloody towel to inspect the wound, grimacing. "Is this a gunshot wound?" she asked cautiously, but got no reply. Kakuzu returned swiftly with a first aid kit, suture supplies, and blood bags.

“You have blood bags here? Why would you—never mind. How long ago was he shot?" Sakura asked as she cut up the front of his shirt to gain better access to his injury. Konan stayed silent, stony glare impassable. "I need to know so I can estimate if or how much blood he needs." Her gaze flicked quickly to Kakuzu, looking for confirmation that she should really divulge any info. He gave a sharp nod; if the information could save his life it was worth giving up.

"About 20 minutes ago," Konan replied hesitantly.

Both Konan and Kakuzu took a step back to let her work.

"Who is she?" Konan asked in a hushed tone. She was rightfully suspicious of the woman currently tending to their leader. For the first time in a long time Kakuzu wasn't sure how events were going to unfold.

"Dr. Haruno Sakura. She's the head coroner at Konoha Medical," Kakuzu answered, keeping his voice to a minimum too.

"How much does she know?"

"Nothing, before you showed up," he shot back.

"It was unavoidable," Konan's voice was icy. "You never have outside personnel here; I thought it would have been safe. Can we trust her?"

"I'm not sure yet," Kakuzu mused as he watched her work. It appeared Pein was stabilizing so at least her medical abilities were up to snuff. It was also to their advantage her priorities were easily shuffled judging by how quickly he convinced her they couldn't take him to the hospital. Maybe she could be an asset in the future; maybe another contact in the hospital, the medical examiner no less, would be a good thing. It was a shame he hasn't done his homework on her yet to scrounge up any blackmail material that would make her more compliant. It was normal procedure for him to research weak points on all new associates, just in case. "I'm sure we can work something out."

"There's always room at Sunrise," she supplied.

"No," he hummed, "She's too important to disappear."

Sakura covered Pein with a blanket once she was finished stitching him up, making sure the IV lines were uninhibited before rounding on the two conversing quietly behind her.

"You two are lucky these were superficial wounds. If his organs were damaged there wouldn't have been much I could do," she chided as she pulled off her blood streaked gloves. "Are either of you going to fill me in on what's happening?" She sounded irritated and on edge, which was understandable.

"No," Kakuzu answered briskly.

"What do you mean 'no'? I think I have the right to-"

Kakuzu held up a hand to cut her off. "It's better if you don't know too much," feigning concern for her wellbeing, poorly. "You don't want to get involved with this. Now, if you have what you came for you should go." He gestured to the dead gunshot victim on the other side of the room that was forgotten in the chaos.

She stared at him, mouth hanging slightly open, for a few moments, mind running to try and make sense of the situation. It wasn't an outright threat, but he was sure she registered that being connected to this meant danger. Sakura's teeth clicked when she shut her mouth in a firm line, eyes drifting to the orange haired man recovering on the gurney.

"Fine. I got what I needed." She crossed her arms and attempted to stand tall. Despite what she was trying to project, he could sense she knew she had stumbled upon something she shouldn't have. She was a smart woman, after all. "He should really go to the hospital."

"We'll keep that in mind," Kakuzu grumbled, watching as she started up the stairs. Even though she was doing the smart thing now, there was no telling if she would go to the police later and she was too high profile to get rid of; he needed to find an angle on her, and fast. He trudged up the steps behind her, keeping at a non-threatening following distance. The doctor waited impatiently at the door; Kakuzu produced the key from his pocket and unlocked it. With his hand still on the handle, he turned to her. "Keep what happened here between us." She nodded once, not looking at him, jaw still clenched.

"I'll be seeing you, Dr. Haruno," he called after her as she hurried down the steps and out into the night. She didn't look back.


End file.
